The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

Hell, Demon City, the meditation room of the Central Divine Hall.

In the vast hall, Nether Fire flickered, illuminating the complex and eerie relief murals on the granite walls—a never-ending army of bones engaged in battle with a fire-breathing giant dragon, and behind the dragon were endless humans, dwarfs, elves, and now-ignored lizardmen.

Sitting on a granite seat in the meditation room, Minister of Religion Goliath Soren suddenly looked up, a chilling gleam reflecting in his hollow skull.

Just a moment ago, while meditating, he sensed a familiar aura!

A vague sense of disquiet crept into his heart, as if a coldness rose from the deepest part of his soul, causing his Soul Fire to shake uncontrollably.

That familiar aura—

It was the Dragon God!

No mistake!

But... how could this be?!

Goliath sat frozen, the silently burning Soul Fire seemed stunned, slowly digesting the shocking truth.

At that very moment, a tremor suddenly erupted below the temple, causing the sturdy granite walls to wail under strain, and the cast iron chandelier suspended from the ceiling to sway like a swinging swing.

Goliath instinctively gripped the armrests of the chair, a "crack" sound issuing from beneath his pale, emaciated finger bones.

That was the sound of granite fracturing.

Being a Demigod Level powerhouse, a Minister of Religion in Hell, he wasn't supposed to be so panicked, yet the memory associated with that aura was too deeply imprinted, bringing fear permanently embedded in his Soul Fire...

Even though a full thousand years had passed since then, it still felt as vivid and unforgettable as ever.

It was a thousand years ago, when Hell hadn't been established, and the Netherworld God hadn't fallen in the First Epoch.

Back then, he was just a death chanter in the Netherworld God's choir of death, and the one revered as the "Dragon God" was an existence that even the Netherworld God had to shy away from!

Goliath would never forget the wreckage after that divine war, nor the comrades who fell in that great battle.

If not for the sudden disappearance of the mighty Dragon God, taking His endless subjects with Him and leaving the rampant Aus Empire in chaos, the broken Netherworld would not have been left with even a shred of remnant souls, let alone the existence of the current Hell.

Goliath slowly stood up, his bones creaking.

He gazed at the half-open dome of the temple, feeling an awakened ancient power, crossing the world's boundary from afar—like a gradually awakening Purple Moon, slowly surfacing on the sea.

"...The Dragon God has returned?"

His voice was hoarse and hollow, yet carrying an undeniable awe.

It's a pity, that the awakened memory of fear didn't let him know...

The then Gutaf had long ceased to exist, or had already become a "Heavenly God".

And what remains in this world is merely a little ghost named "Taufu"...

At this moment, the heavy door of the meditation room was pushed open.

A temple guardian clad in Black Iron Armor strode into the hall, knelt on one knee, and asked softly:

"Your Excellency, are you all right?"

Goliath lowered his eyes where the Soul Fire trembled slightly, calmly replying:

"...I'm fine."

His tone was as cold as ever, but beneath it lay an imperceptible repression.

Then, he slowly sat back onto the granite seat, letting his decayed gaze fall outside the door, and a low voice drifted from his skull after a moment.

"This is no ordinary earthquake... The source of the tremor is above us, not below our feet."

"Send an Angel Envoy to the surface and see."

"I need to know what has happened there."

The guardian paused for a moment, then bowed and agreed.

"Understood."

As the footsteps receded, the temple returned to silence.

Goliath spoke no more, only slightly inclined his head, bony fingers tapping the armrest as if pondering, or perhaps waiting.

A thousand years had passed.

Over the millennia of decline, most of his old friends had already left this world, leaving only their grandsons' grandsons—a bunch of weak, incompetent, and utterly corrupt fools holding the power of Hell.

These people, having long forgotten the glory of the old Netherworld, were not satisfied with destroying its traditions. They had fouled up all of Hell, making demons unlike demons, goblins unlike goblins, and humans even less like humans... In short, nothing was right.

Fortunately, their opponents were the same.

And due to their short lifespans, the decline of the Aus Empire was even faster, allowing these descendants of the Netherworld God to survive.

But that guy was different—

If the strength of the Aus Empire was traceable, then the lizardmen led by the Dragon God were like a species that didn't belong to this world!

They died one after another, surged forward one after another. Although their Extraordinary Power was weak, their reproduction speed was rapid, and their adaptability to the environment reached an astounding level.

Moreover, those lizardmen could often take out some unfathomable Magic Devices, taking Transcendents vastly stronger than them by surprise.

Compared to that Linte Isaac born after the Empire, that guy seemed more like the "Mechanical God", after all, no one has been able to replicate what He made, while Isaac's steam engines have spread everywhere.